My Voice of Reason
by TinyDancer5678
Summary: My first attempt : When Maryse feels like she's hit the bottom, he becomes the only voice to bring her back...  Rated M for language, drug use, sexual content.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Hi everyone! This is my first try at this, so I wouldn't mind getting some feedback on how I'm doing :) Also, I know this will be more than one chapter, so keep checking back please!

Disclaimer: I don't own anyone in the WWE or the WWE itself.

**My Voice of Reason**

In the locker room, the boys could not stop talking about the females in the ring. Tape, gear and food had all been dropped as eyes glued to the flat screen in the middle of the cold, generic cement area.

"Ooohhhh!" All the guys groaned in unison, as Melina speared her blonde opponent. With the Diva's Champion grounded, Melina went on the offensive.

"It's over now, homies," Christian yelled at the others, returning to his forgotten wrist tape. Most of the guys followed Captain Charisma's lead, going about their usual post or pre-match rituals.

CM Punk, however remained focused on the LED screen. He never usually stopped to watch the women's division, but for some reason he couldn't keep his eyes off the match. One part in particular…

Apparently, the boys looked away too early. As Melina let out her primal scream, preparing to put away the long-legged lady, the French Beauty countered it, throwing her from the corner of the ring. This seemed to spark the guys' attention again, sending them all towards the television. As soon as they all gathered, Maryse hit her French Kiss. The ref counted, "1, 2, 3!" and the match came to a close.

"Never count out Maryse, boys," Cody Rhodes chuckled, picking up his towel and heading toward the showers. "That bitch is crazy."

"Why does it sound like you are speaking from experience, Cody?" Jericho asked suspiciously. The young superstar stood in silence for a second, the boys in the locker room now anxiously waiting for some juicy details. Instead, he simply smirked at the room full of desperate faces and arrogantly walked into the showers.

While the rest of the guys began to gossip like middle school girls, Punk's eyes were still transfixed on the woman in the ring. As she went to celebrate here victory with her signature flip, Maryse collapsed, losing her grip on the ropes. She laid there for a few moments before the ref and her tag partner, Jillian, pulled her gingerly to her feet.

Usually, Punk was somewhat reserved backstage. He was never one to mingle too closely with the Divas on the roster for fear of losing self-control. Unlike some of the other dirty men in his proximity right now, he did not find the benefits of one-night-stands with co-workers. They could not end in anything but awkward tension in the workplace. Tension that he definitely did not need.

With all that being said, though, he found himself being incredibly worried about the platinum blonde woman, slowly making her way up the ramp in a hazy stupor. They had never been more than simple acquaintances before, but something was directing all of his thoughts back to Maryse.

Knowing a meeting with the beautiful woman he barely knew would end disastrously, Punk chose to suppress the urge to check on the Diva's Champ and returned to prepping for his match later that evening.

**-Maryse-**

Maryse's head bounced off the mat. Hard. "I didn't know Melina had a serious spear in her repertoire," she thought.

She felt awful, she knew that. She wasn't sure if it was the match or the series of events before it had started.

"_Mike, please. I can't do this without you," she cried, makeup smearing down her heated cheeks. _

All she knew was that if she didn't end this match soon, she was going to pass out in the middle of the ring.

"1, 2, 3!" the ref counted. Although the match was over, she didn't feel any better. Knowing she had to perform for the fans and for the executives in the back, she tried to steady herself on the rope and flipped her long cascade of platinum locks.

As soon as she threw her head forward, she knew it was a bad idea. The lights started dimming and the ropes blurred. With a thud, her whole body collapsed in a heap by the edge of the ring.

"_Listen slut, I don't want to anymore," Mike replied coldly. "Since I have no use for you, I'm sure as hell not putting up with your bullshit anymore. Get out."_

When she finally got back to the locker room, every girl in there came flooding to her, fawning over her injured body. Although it would seem like a sweet gesture to an outsider, she knew they couldn't care less about her. Maryse felt they were more concerned about her as a competitor than a person. If only she could just disappear… She needed some time to herself.

Maryse has always felt like a loner in the back. Ever since she got with Mike, the French woman lost touch with the other women in the business.

Okay, it wasn't just Mike that made her lose touch. But it's just easier to blame it on him right now.

_She tried to plead with Mike. She needed him! She needed him and his connections… "I'm not paying for both of us anymore. That shit gets expensive and you're not worth it," Mike simply stated. "Now leave."_

She was out in the parking lot when she finally snapped out of her flashback. Maryse didn't even realize she had left the locker room, but she became very aware when the cool night breeze hit her bare shoulders.

She decided she just needed to get out of there. Back to her hotel, back to her silent solitude. She reached for her keys from the bag she managed to bring from the locker room. Her whole body was shaking so badly, especially her hands. An innocent bystander would think it was from the cold air, but Maryse knew otherwise.

The shake became so violent, she couldn't fit the key into the lock of her car.

"Shit!" She shreaked. "Please please please… I just want out of here."

Every second that passed made her more upset, tears of frustration forming in the corners of her gorgeous almond-shaped eyes.

That's when she heard a voice—a calm, almost soothing voice—that immediately cut through her shaky, pathetic tears. A voice that made her feel warmer than she had in months. A voice… A voice that changed everything for her.

"Can I help?"


	2. Chapter 2

Here is attempt #2! Please give me some feedback if you can. I want to know what you guys and gals think..

Disclaimer: I don't own the WWE or any of the people in it!

**Chapter 2**

"Can I help?"

Maryse's head shot back, searching for the source of that voice. Her eyes eventually locked on the hooded figure, a vaguely familiar smirk sitting on his lips. Even if the smirk hadn't been familiar, the lip ring and furry beard were a dead giveaway for Phil—or CM Punk as he was known in the ring. His hand was outstretched like he already knew she would say yes. Although she wanted to be strong, she knew she couldn't do this on her own right now.

"Yes, th—thank you," she shivered. Her teeth were chattering, which didn't go unnoticed by the man. Without any hesitation, he removed the hooded jacket he was wearing and placed it around her small, bare shoulders. The gesture was small, but at the moment it meant everything to her.

"Ok princess, hop in," he said. She still couldn't get over the wave of calm that came over her when he spoke. She stood, slightly confused for second, before replying with the only words she could manage.

"My name is Maryse," she retorted. _Well, smooth… _she thought, embarrassed with her attempt at conversation.

He let out a small, soft chuckle before simply saying, "Yeah, I know. We have met before."

"Thanks for the offer, Phil, but I can get myself to the hotel." She knew that was a total lie, but she was too embarrassed by her current situation to allow him to accompany her back.

Normally, she was a strong, sexy, independent woman. It wasn't like her to take help from others, especially men. Men with such soothing voices as his…

"Don't worry princ—I mean Maryse," he said, trademark smirk plastered on his face. "I just want to make sure you get there in one piece. You seem pretty shaken up."

_If only he knew the half of it,_ she thought, as she shuffled to the other side of the rental car and slid into the passenger seat.

The drive was relatively quiet, Punk only asking necessary questions, like which hotel she was in. He seemed to be respecting her privacy and her space, which was an extremely refreshing treatment. She knew if it were Mike, he would be asking a hundred different questions and diving head-first into her business. They were almost at the hotel when her shivers began turning into violent shakes. She knew she couldn't blame these on being cold for much longer. She had to get to her room. She had to find her Miz…

**-Phil-**

Phil had definitely noticed the severity of her tremors from the corner of his eye, but he knew she wasn't going to talk about it. That last thing he wanted to do was make her uncomfortable, so he settled for just watching her silently.

As he was checking on her condition, he couldn't stop his eyes from checking her out. She was still in a very short, tight dress from her promo earlier in the evening. It didn't leave much of her long, gorgeous, toned legs unexposed. His hoodie over her shoulders made for an almost hilarious contrast. It was huge, ratty and dark, and practically fell off of her small frame. In a less uncomfortable situation, he would find her attractive. Mezmorizing, even…

He was snapped back to reality when her eyes latched on to his. She was giving him a small yet determined look.

"I'm fine, alright?" she snapped. That's when he realized how truly bad she was shaking. Luckily, they were pulling into the hotel lot before she said anything else to him. He turned off the car and went to grab her bag out of the trunk.

"I'm not helpless, you know," she growled. She snatched her bag from his hands and began to make her way toward the hotel doors. Unfortunately for her, about halfway there she collapsed under her own weight. Phil was at her side in seconds, effortlessly picking her up bridal style, and carrying her the rest of the way.

She was too weak to put up a fight this time, which made Phil's job much easier. He asked her for permission to find her key card in her bag, which she gave him. Finding the card and room number, they headed straight there. He struggled to open the door and hold her at the same time, but finally managed and set her softly on the king sized bed in the suite.

"What can I do to help you, Maryse?" He asked. He barely knew her, but for some reason, he was seriously concerned about the French-Canadian beauty.

She continued to shake violently, muttering just a few words. "Mike… please… get my Miz…"

_Figures _he thought. _A girl like her would definitely have a man already._

Almost as if he already knew, Mike "The Miz" stormed through the door with a brown paper bag under his arm.

"Knew you wouldn't be strong enough," Mike chuckled darkly. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Phil standing there. Glaring intently at the straight edge star, Mike simply said, "You're services are no longer needed here, Punk."

Phil, suddenly feeling extremely uncomfortable, gave an awkward wave/bow combination to Mike before heading towards the door. _Really, Phil? _He thought, almost cursing himself under his breath. _You couldn't have thought of something more clever or natural than whatever the hell that was? _

His focus shifted back to Maryse, though, as he wondered how Mike was going to get her feeling better. He knew better than to ask him right now. He had already embarrassed himself once in the last thirty seconds. No use going for a record or anything.

He closed the door to the vision of Mike throwing Punk's hoodie off of her and digging through his brown bag. Phil started the short trek to the elevator, which would take him to his own room in the same hotel. It was probably wrong of him—and it definitely went against his rule of not getting involved with co-workers—but he knew he was probably going to see Maryse in his dreams later that night…

**-Maryse-**

Mike wasted no time stripping off the black jacket Phil had loaned her. She visibly pouted, immediately missing the soft cloth around her. _Was that warmth from the coat or who it was from?_

He pulled all of the necessary ingredients out of the bag and prepared the syringe. Tying the band around her arm to make her vein bulge, he injected the drug hastily into her blood stream.

Physically, she felt a sense of relief, knowing the shaking would soon stop. Mentally, she was kicking herself for giving in yet again. She had told herself she would stop. She said last time was going to be the final time, but it looks like she couldn't keep that promise to herself.

"I'm not going to keep supplying you, bitch," Mike growled coldly. "I'm not regularly getting any from you anymore, so you're going to have to get your own."

"Please, Miz…" Maryse whispered. "Whatever you need from me… I need this stuff. I need you," she pleaded. She was so disgusted with the words that were coming out of her own mouth, but she couldn't seem to stop them from coming out.

A low, almost vicious chuckle left Mike's throat. "I knew you wouldn't hold out on me, whore," he said confidently. He crawled on the bed and held himself up, hovering over her. "After all, I need my payment for this time…"

With that, he greedily pressed his lips to hers, immediately searching for the zipper on her dress. She began going through the familiar motions with Mike, feeling sick by her own actions for letting it get this far again. Before she could lose herself in thought, he was forcing her hands down his jeans and she was preparing herself mentally for the moments ahead.

**OK, I know this chapter was a little dark, but I promise it will get better! You've got to hit the bottom to appreciate the top, right? :)  
****Please please please review! I would love to have some input on this story- what you like or don't like so far. Thanks much!**


	3. Chapter 3

**OK, thanks to the people that have been reading so far! I hope you are enjoying it. Please please please please review if you get a chance. You're feedback would mean so much to me.**

**P.S. I kind of made my own RAW roster, using many of my favorites. I know all these guys aren't on the same show, but I'm pretending they are. Call it a creative liberty :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any characters from the WWE or the WWE itself.**

**Chapter 3**

Maryse woke up, tangled in the sheets of her hotel bed. She woke up alone, of course, because Mike never stayed around after nights like that. Her head was pounding and the last thing she wanted to do was get ready for a house show that evening.

The events of last night were swimming around in her brain, starting with the most recent. Sleep, sex, Mike, the stuff, withdrawal, shaking…

Her thoughts stopped when she thought about that voice. This morning, the calming, caring voice that had helped her almost felt like a part of the blonde woman's dreams. She shook her head hard, trying to remember whether that had actually happened. As she did that, her tired eyes fell on the soft, black piece of clothing thrown in the corner of the suite.

_So it wasn't a dream_ Maryse thought. _He went out of his way to help me, to try to calm me…_

She was snapped out of it when she heard her cell phone ringing. Rushing to grab it from the bag next her bed, the French Canadian fell right over the side, landing with a loud thump.

"Hullo..?" She mumbled, rubbing her head again and untangling herself from the sheets that fell with her.

"Oh gosh, you aren't just waking up are you?" She could immediately pinpoint the spritely voice on the other side as her best friend in the business, Melina. Most people didn't know they even spoke to each other, let alone had a close relationship, but she was about the only person left backstage that she trusted. Melina knew all about Maryse's "problems" and had tried to help her before, but the diva just couldn't seem to stay clean.

"Ummm... yeah, sorry. What's the problem?" Maryse asked quietly, still trying to collect all of her thoughts.

"We have to get on the road! We need to be at the next arena in just a few hours," Melina said frantically. Maryse could hear the panic starting to creep into Melina's voice and giggled softly to herself. While the blonde didn't mind arriving fashionably late to events, her dark-haired counterpart HAD to be on time—or early—for everything. She knew better than to drag her feet today.

"Ok, ok... I just need time to shower, eat breakfast, get dressed..." Maryse started.

"Nope, no time. You can shower at the arena." Melina cut her off. "I'll meet you in the lobby in fifteen. Hurry your little butt up," she teased. With that, Maryse hung up and let out a long, loud groan. She just did not want to go through the normal routine again today. Nothing about packing up, driving to another generic town, doing a regular house show and checking into another hotel appealed to her.

Nothing except the possibility of hearing that voice again…

**-Phil—**

Rolling his suitcase behind him, Phil shoved open the back doors and made his way into the arena. He was almost always the first one there on house show days. These days were much more relaxed, more casual, so people never showed up as early.

He found the dressing room and began setting up his locker. Before long, the guys were showing up, coming in the same order in which they seem to show up every night. He said his hellos to the entering crowd before the chatter began about their nights last night.

He never really participated in these conversations because he never really went out. Even when he did, he didn't drink, so his stories were nowhere near as exciting.

Besides, he spent most of last night driving Maryse, tending to Maryse and dreaming about Maryse.

As usual, most of the male superstars were hung-over and discussing the bars they visited the previous evening. Also like normal, the youngsters were the most vocal.

"She had the most amazing ass I had ever seen," Cody Rhodes bragged. Phil rolled his eyes at this comment because he was pretty sure Cody said that at almost every stop.

"How would you even know?" his best friend, Ted DiBiase interjected. "You were so wasted that you couldn't see straight!" The locker room filled with snickers and chuckles before Cody confidently and quickly responded.

"Because her ass still looked amazing in my bed this morning."

With that, the guys all erupted into a chorus of "Oooohs" before taking turns high-fiving the raven-haired superstar. Ted just shook his head, laughing, and returned to getting ready.

"Yeah, at least you didn't have to be carried out of there like Chris did!" Christian shouted, trying to embarrass his old and dear friend. Before Christian could continue, Chris Jericho threw his wrist tape at him, connecting with his face.

"It's all your fault; you bought the drinks last night!" Jericho cried back. "What did you buy me anyway, straight vodka?"

The giggles and yells were cut off by a firm knock at the door. Jericho, being the closest, quickly opened it to see who was interrupting the guys' "dude-bonding moment" and found a tall, tanned blonde on the other side.

"Maryse," he cooed. The mere mention of her name made Phil sit straight up on his bench, staying with his back to the door and trying not to look so obviously intrigued.

"To what to I owe the pleasure?" Jericho asked flirtatiously.

"I need to give Punk his sweatshirt back," she stated with a teasing glint in her eyes. "He left it in my hotel room."

As the last two words left her full pink lips, every single man in that room stopped whatever they were doing and slowly turned to look at Phil with shock on their faces. He could feel himself blushing and turned to look at Maryse. An undeniably devious smirk was plastered on her face. He knew that was the reaction from the audience that she was hoping for…

Phil let out an awkward cough and rose to his feet, beginning the seemingly endless march to the doorway. The eyes were following him as he reached his destination and grabbed for the jacket. She didn't let go, selecting instead to draw him closer and whisper in his ear.

"Want to talk a little walk?" Again he noticed that smirk on her lips and knew she was enjoying this embarrassing moment way too much. The woman definitely knew how to put on a show…

He was hesitant because he knew this woman liked to play games and he didn't want to get wound up in them. The last thing he wanted to do now, though, was sit back down in that locker room full of curious faces, so I looked like he had no choice but to reluctantly agree.

Turning around to look at the crowd of hungry faces—and without letting go of the hoodie that connected he and Maryse—he flashed his trademark grin.

"I guess I'll talk to you gentleman later."

**Brighter than the last chapter, right? I like the banter in the locker room…**

**I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter, so let me know what YOU think by reviewing it :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you SO much to reader Ainat for the review! It meant a lot to me :)**  
**Also thanks to those who put it on alert or made it a favorite! Too cool.**

**More reviews would be awesome, too...**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any WWE characters or the WWE itself**

**Chapter 4**

Damn. This walk was NOT having to fairy tale beginning Phil had hoped for…

The first few steps were really uncomfortable as they decided to go outside for a little more privacy. The silence was creating an uneasy feeling between the two stars. Phil simply could not think of a single thing to say. Hundreds of possibilities were taking laps around his mind, but he couldn't find the right combination of words. Finally, he decided on the easy way out as the silence became unbearable.

"So…" The straight edge star began. "You wanted to talk?"

_Oh. My. Gosh. Could I be any more awkward if I tried? _He thought as his shook his head in frustration with a grimace on his face.

He was prepared for the worst—maybe she would just walk away—when the gorgeous blonde instead left out a soft, airy giggle.

"I never said I wanted to talk to you," Maryse replied with that devious grin planted firmly on her lips. "I just wanted to walk," She continued. He could see the amusement in her eyes as she raised on eyebrow at him. "But if it's talking you want, talking you will get."

At that, words began flowing effortlessly from her perfect mouth. The only problem? They were all in French…

Now it was Phil's turn to chuckle. She continued all the way outside, eyeing him playfully. She was obviously amused by the confusion written on his face. He watched as she went over to a bench outside the arena and sat on the edge. The bearded superstar did the same, taking in the sight next to him. The French language still spilling from her parted lips was almost intoxicating. He felt like he wanted to listen to her talk about who-knows-what for hours…

"Phil?"

_Shit. _He thought, as he was caught staring yet again. _She's going to start thinking the wrong thing about me. Snap out of it, man! Stop looking at her like she's a piece of meat._

The traffic around them became the only noise for a few moments as the raven-haired man struggled with his thoughts. He wanted to ask her if she was alright. If she had seen a doctor, if the shakes continued for much longer, if Miz had taken care of her properly. Taken care of her the way he would have…

She obviously saw the strain on his face, so the gorgeous woman confidently made the first move. Maryse took Punk's already-wrapped wrists, looked him in his eyes and broke the silence.

"I want to thank you for your help," she said. Phil felt warmth in her voice, a sincerity that definitely wasn't present last night. "And I'm fine, so no need to ask," She finished, as if she was reading his thoughts. Maryse was smiling sweetly, showing a completely different side to the normally cold and cocky diva.

"Hey, no problem," Phil replied. The thoughts were still all jumbled up in his brain, but he knew he needed to say something else. "And listen, if there is anything I can do… Like, or whatever… I mean, I'm happy to-I will help." _Shit, stop that! _He shouted in his thoughts._ You barely know her; she'll think you're a creep! _

Trying to recover from that clumsy string of phrases, Phil mumbled, "I mean, I know don't know each other well, but—I don't know—I want you to be okay…"

The angelic sound of her giggle interrupted his dorky rant. Maryse stood up, adjusting the short red dress she was wearing.

"I appreciate it, Punk," She said, warmth still radiating from her smiling eyes. "Be prepared, because I may just take you up on that sometime." The tone of her voice had a playfully threatening tone.

She grabbed his arms again to pull him off the bench.

"I know you have a match to get ready to," the French diva stated. "I won't keep you out here any longer."

By this point, he had completely forgotten about his match. In fact, he had completely forgotten about the world around him. She was the only thing consuming his thoughts.

"Oh crap, you're right," Phil said. He was going to have to stretch quickly if he wanted to be ready in time.

"Besides," the blonde woman began, smiling playfully at him as she pulled him inside the arena. "I would like to stop this conversation before you start calling me 'princess' again like you did last night."

They both laughed as they made it back to the door of his locker room with a calm feeling of happiness simmering between them. He said a small "See ya around" and turned to open the door. Instead, she pulled him into a quick hug, wrapping her arms tightly around his shoulders. Punk breathed in her scent—a sweet perfume—enjoying the feel of the small frame against him. As she released his shoulders, the smirk returned to her face as she said,

"You better win tonight, because I'll be watching."

Phil remained frozen as he watched her strut down the hallway. He knew now, he would have to do something to impress her.

**-Maryse-**

Her backstage segment was over, so Maryse went back to the divas' locker room to change. She quickly found Melina and quietly filled her in on the short but intimate conversation she had earlier with the straight edge superstar. As she predicted, Melina was in complete shock, but extremely excited.

"I had no idea you two even knew each other!" The black-haired diva whispered animatedly, her face taken over by a gigantic smile for her friend. "Wow 'Ryse, that sounds so wonderful."

It really had been. Now, Maryse knew the conversation was really brief—and maybe it hadn't meant as much to him—but it was the most genuine conversation she had been in with a guy in a very long time.

Her body froze as she thought about that. _Had that meant anything to him? _She thought. _Shoot, he probably talks to women like that all the time! Why would those few minutes mean anything special to him?_

These thoughts suddenly made her feel extremely foolish. Her shoulders slumped as the blonde beauty realized she most likely just made a huge deal out of nothing. Her heart sunk all the way down to the floor as the familiar feeling of loneliness washed over her.

As Melina made her way to the showers, Maryse knew there would only be one thing to do tonight to make her feel better. She reached in her bag for her phone and called the one person she knew would have the tools to make her feel good—even just for a few hours.

"Mike?" She said apprehensively. "How about we go out tonight? I could use some fun this evening."

After a short, quiet conversation, Maryse felt better knowing she would be drowning her worries soon in booze, drugs and Mike.

She looked up at the flat screen in the middle of the room to see Phil's match already underway. He was taking on Christian again and seemed to be making easy work of him. The young woman's eyes were glued to the set, glued to the man that was dominating in the ring.

Her thoughts reverted back to their conversation and the sound of his voice. When he spoke, a calming warmth spread through her entire body that she never felt any other time. She felt more comfortable in that warmth than she did even in her own skin sometimes.

"1, 2, 3!" The ref shouted as CM Punk picked up the impressive victory. She couldn't help but smile at the screen, feeling happy for Phil. She watched as he celebrated in the ring, and then hopped up on one of the corner turnbuckles. His next move made Maryse drop her bag back in shock.

Phil turned straight to the camera, gave an adorable wink and shouted,

"Hey, Princess!"

**OK, as always, REVIEWS would be greatly appreciated! I truly want to know you guys and girls think about the story/chapter/etc. :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks SO much to Glamagirl, Ali Amnesia, and Ainat for the reviews! They mean bunches to me :)**

**Also thanks to the people who put it on alert or made it a favorite! Totally rad.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own WWE peoples or the company itself…**

**Chapter 5**

He had absolutely no idea what had come over him. He had just given a shut-out to a woman he barely knew in front of MILLIONS of people. As he walked back to the locker room, he ran his hands through his sweaty, black hair in frustration.

To say Phil was embarrassed would be the understatement of the century. He knew the guys backstage would never ever let this one go until they figured out the deal between him and "Princess."

That brought him back to Maryse. What the hell was she going to say? What could she possibly be thinking after he practically outed their flirtation to the entire universe?

Unfortunately for Phil, he wasn't going to have to wait long for some answers as a flash of platinum hair came strutting down the hallway. Their eyes locked and he knew those longs, toned legs were heading straight for him.

The bearded superstar couldn't hide now. He could do nothing but watch—practically in slow motion—as the blonde made her way to him. He was trying desperately to read her expressions, and after what felt like an eternity to Phil, she stopped confidently right in front of him.

"Well hello to you too, Punk," she said, smiling sweetly.

Phil let out a sigh of relief, breathing for the first time since he saw her, and chuckled as he folded his arms.

"You heard that, huh?" He asked, suddenly feeling very self-conscious about his bold move in the ring. His nerves eased slightly as she pulled him into a small hug again.

"I heard it and I loved it," she whispered softly. Phil again took this opportunity to take in the sweet smell of her perfume and the feel of her skin touching his. In his mind, he knew this wasn't something that could happen often, so he wanted to cement it in his memory.

As she pulled away, the sound of Mike the Miz's voice shot through the air—as abrupt and cringe-inducing a car wreck.

"'Ryse, babe, let's go," The young superstar yelled. Phil's heart sunk at the thought of her leaving with him. Or leaving his side at all…

He noticed a slight hesitation in her face—fear that wasn't present before—as she took a few steps in Mike's direction. Phil held her gaze. He didn't say a word, as he tried to process the emotions flooding across her face.

"Come with us," She finally breathed. "We're going out to the bars tonight. I promise it will be a great time!" The confidence seemed to some back as she made it to Mike's side. The smirk was planted back on her lips.

Part of Phil made him think he needed to go. He felt this sudden urge to protect her, to keep her out of harm's way. Unfortunately for both he and Maryse, that part of his brain wasn't speaking the loudest at the moment.

"Naw," he replied simply. "Not my scene."

Miz obviously took that as their cue, pulling on Maryse' arm as he spat, "Suit yourself, loner. I wouldn't want you there anyway because you're lame straight edge ways would ruin the party."

Apparently pleased with the insult he threw, Mike pulled harder on Maryse. She turned around once more to look at Punk, the fear back in her gaze.

"See you soon?" She asked, almost pleading.

Punk matched the intensity in her gaze, shooting a concerned look right back before responding, "Whenever you want."

**Ok, short chapter, but the next should be up by the late tonight! Promise :)**

**As always, PLEASE review! Let me know what you like/don't like in here…**


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry this took a little longer than I thought it would… Little writer's block!**

**Thanks to Glamagirl and rkofan2012 for the reviews. Keep 'em coming :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the WWE or people in it…**

**Chapter 6**

The club was generic: hot, dark, crowded and loud. And that was just the way Maryse liked it.

This way, she was free to drink herself into oblivion. She could disappear into a corner, slide into that drunken stupor, and be completely forgotten.

Or forget…

Mike was having a blast, which was good news for the French-Canadian woman. Anytime he thought a club wasn't as fun, he always seemed to take it out on her when they got back to the hotel. He saw her as his personal plaything that he could use whenever—and however—he wanted to.

Miz's words quickly began slurring and Maryse's eyes began to blur. Finally, she felt like she was back in a world she understood: No pain, no work and certainly no feelings.

"You got the stuff?" She asked Miz, barely managing to slur out the words. He drunkenly nodded as they made their way back to a secluded VIP section. Taking out a small plastic baggie, the two quickly succumbed to the familiar foreign chemical in their bodies as Mike shot it into their veins.

Maryse was beginning to notice tracks in her forearm—scars from the needles that were constantly scraped into that skin. It worried her during the daytime, but right now she couldn't care any less.

They had been at the club for hours now, and she knew closing time was upon them. The drug always made them lose track of time. Mike stumbled away to greet some old friends, leaving Maryse alone. As always.

She wasn't sure whether it was the drugs, the booze, or her real heart talking, but she got the sudden urge to get out of that club. She wanted to get back to the hotel. She wanted to make a late-night visit…

—**Phil—**

The knocking on the door had become too obnoxious to ignore. It had been going on for about five minutes now and had awoken Phil from a very vivid and wonderful dream about a certain blonde woman of the French variety.

Struggling to his feet, the raven-haired man tried to wipe the sleep from his eyes as he shuffled toward the door of his hotel room. The tiredness immediately evaporated as soon as he opened the door. His eyes shot open as he drank in the sight of the woman in the doorway.

Her body glistened from the sweat, yet her face looked pale and clammy. The normally perfect blonde locks were messy and tangled around her porcelain-like features. Phil froze at the sight in front of him, not able to connect physical movement to the thoughts in his head. He suddenly felt protective over the vulnerable girl in front of him again. He wanted to comfort her, to console her from whatever was causing her the grief written on her face.

Without a single word, she pushed through the doorway and stumbled toward Phil's bed. The tousled blonde grabbed Phil by the wrist and forced him to follow. As they reached the mattress, Maryse fell backwards, pulling the bearded star directly on top of her and holding his eyes in her hazy gaze. She wasted no time, rolling herself over him, seductively straddling his hips.

Although her body was sultry, her face was still glazed over. It looked to be full of stress and vulnerability that she was trying to cover up.

"Punk," she whispered. Her words almost sounded like they were painful to speak. She could barely manage to string her thoughts together. "I need you. I need you to…"

Phil had no idea what to do, obviously his body wanted to take advantage of the situation, but his mind was more concerned about her feelings. He stroked her face gently, barely touching his fingertips to her clammy skin.

The blonde pushed into his touch, almost trying to absorb the warmth from his palm. The straight-edge start took the opportunity to tenderly run his hand down Maryse's soft frame.

The excitement he felt suddenly diminished. His eyes widened in horror when his fingers arrived to the scars on her forearms. Those tracks from her veins.

Rapidly, the memories of every one of his meetings with Maryse came flooding back at once. The hazy looks, the shaking, the plastic baggie, Miz and the paper bag… She wasn't sick at all—this woman was a drug abuser.

That feeling of horror turned to anger. Phil was frustrated with himself for caring for her. Frustrated for thinking she deserved his sympathy. There was a reason he was straight-edge, and he was not going to let drugs ruin his life again.

The rage in his heart began clouding his mind. Without another word, he lifted the small frame off of his body and pulled her off of his bed.

"You liar," he muttered. "You aren't sick. You've done this to yourself!" He couldn't hold back his anger. _Why? _He thought. _Why didn't I see this before? I won't be an idiot this time. _

Her almond eyes flung open, looking directly back into his. They were scared and pleading. It was the first time that night that Phil didn't see any haze or cloudiness in them. But that didn't matter to him right now. His anger for his own ignorance had blinded him from all other feelings.

"You have caused this pain yourself," he repeated. "Go deal with it, or go tell some other druggie who cares."

With that he forcefully threw her through the doorframe and out into the cold, bright hotel hallway.

—**Maryse—**

The door slammed right in her face—a bit closer and it might have broken her nose. Maryse took a few steps back before really absorbing the events that just took place. The tears began falling freely as she slowly walked down the hallway, using the wall for support.

_Well, that's it, _she thought. _I have pushed away the only happiness left in my life._

With this thought, the disheveled blonde sunk slowly to the floor, wrapping her trembling hands around her cold, bare shoulders. The shaking had returned, but she was too upset to even care. She laid in the middle of the cold corridor for what felt like an eternity until exhaustion began to slowly take over her body…

—**Phil—**

He hadn't been able to sleep a wink. Sure, it had only been an hour or two since she had left, but Phil could not get her off of his mind. Tossing and turning, he was still trying to contain his anger. _How could I have missed all the signs?_

Although the anger was the most dominant feeling, a lesser feeling was beginning to creep into the back of his mind. A feeling of regret.

Phil sat up in his bed, pulling his arms behind his head as he contemplated his actions earlier. That's when the regret really hit him hard.

_You dickhead! _He thought. _She didn't need you to scold her; she needed you to help her!_

Before he could change his mind again, Phil flew out of his covers and ripped open the door. He had no idea where to begin looking for her, but he knew he would have to find the struggling woman he had grown so fond of.

At first, the straight edge star just stood in the hallway, looking left, then right, then left again. That's when he heard a quiet noise coming from a windowsill by the elevators. It sounded weak, upset and uncomfortable. He rushed to the source of the sound to find one of the most heartbreaking scenes unfolding before him.

Maryse was curled up—almost crumpled on the floor—quietly sobbing in what seemed like a troubled slumber. Phil ran to her side, picking her up gently without waiting for permission. As he wrapped his strong arms underneath her cold frame, he realized that the trembling had returned. This time, though, he knew it was the beginning of withdrawal.

Bringing her safely into his room, the raven-haired man gently laid her on his bed. She opened her eyes just slightly, connecting her sorrowful eyes with his. Between shivers, she managed to whisper, "Punk… Save me."

As quickly as they opened, her eyes were shut again. She kept fidgeting, moaning his name under her breath and searching for his touch. Punk could not hide his feelings for the troubled woman any longer. He knew now that he was the only one that could help Maryse. He would have to get her clean, sober. Keep her safe… Near him…

All this would have to wait, because he needed to get her comfortable right now. He ripped off her stilettos and searched for some more appropriate articles of clothing in his bag. After spewing the contents of his suitcase throughout the entire room, he found a smaller sweatshirt and a pair of clean socks.

Pulling the socks on gently, Phil gingerly tucked her long, bare legs under the bed linens. Once the sweatshirt was securely wrapped around her, he placed her trembling figure on his broad, warm chest.

He held her as tightly as he thought would be comfortable for her as he tried to suppress the tremors she was experiencing in her sleep. Knowing he was in for a long, sleepless night, Punk placed a soft kiss on the crown of her head before whispering, "Sleep tight, Princess. I'm here."

**Thanks again for reading! PLEASE leave me some reviews to let me know what you think :) **

**I'll have another update soon…**


	7. Chapter 7

**Sorry that it has been soooo long! School and work have kind of kicked my butt :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the WWE or the people in it.**

**Chapter 7**

Phil finally opened his eyes after trying to fight against the light coming in from the window. Blinking furiously, he tried to focus in on the vision that had been blurred at first—the vision lying with him. His heart caught in his chest as it all came flooding back to him.

_So it wasn't a dream…_

There she was. The blonde beauty was the most beautiful creature on the planet, even after the night she had just endured, and she was curled up in his arms. The tattooed man had no idea what to do next. What was the next step? Should he wake her? Kick her out? Hold her? Kiss her?

The questions were coming fast and furious, so he decided to do what he did best—leave.

With the greatest care, Phil pulled his body from beneath the radiant bombshell. He then leaped silently out of the bed before immediately covering her back up with the warm sheets. Luckily for him, she didn't even move.

He began replaying everything from the night before as he changed into some workout clothes. Although it was full of drama, he did not regret his decision to help Maryse. No, what he was really worried about was her response to this situation when she awoke. As much as he hated to admit that he could have feelings for a high-maintenance drug-addicted blonde Barbie doll, he was infatuated. The last thing he wanted now was for this living fantasy to end—for Maryse to leave him and his seemingly boring lifestyle behind.

The more he thought about this, the more he couldn't stand to be in the room while he waited for her to come to. Without another thought on the subject, he picked up the nearest pen and paper on the bedside table and jotted a quick note before heading to the gym.

**-Maryse-**

Maryse woke suddenly from her labored sleep. Without opening her eyes, she began searching through the sheets, hunting for the source of warmth that now seemed to be missing.

Rubbing her tired, burning eyes, she sat up and leaned against the headboard. She took a second to soak in the sight around her and reboot her brain. A gasp shot out from her mouth as she began piecing together her whereabouts. As her location became clearer, so did last night's events.

The frantic search was on for her phone, knowing that there would be a mile-long list of texts, calls and voicemails from Mike. Frustrated and unable to find her phone, Maryse realized her phone wasn't the only thing missing. Pulling her knees up to her chin, Maryse could feel the tears welling up as she realized that Punk wasn't there.

_He hadn't wanted to stay. _She thought. _Of course, why would he? Why would Phil want to stay with me after what he saw last night?_

Those familiar feelings of loneliness and unwant began swirling around in her mind yet again. The disheveled and despairing blonde turned to get out of the bed, hoping to disappear from that room as fast as her feet could carry her. As she shoved off the covers and flipped her feet off the side, her eyes glanced over to the bedside table, stopping on the notepad that lay there. She wasted no time snatching the folded paper bearing her name on the front. Ripping it open, she read the words her "roommate" had left for her.

_Good morning Princess,_

_I got up kinda early so I hopped over to the gym. Hope that's okay. Make yourself at home in my humble abode (hotel room) and I'll be back ASAP so just hang tight. I'll bring breakfast._

_Phil_

She could practically hear his voice as she reread the note—that voice that always comforted her. As if on cue, Maryse heard the door handle begin to jiggle and her thoughts and actions became frantic. After a split-second of worrying about her hair, makeup, position, etc., she remembered the sorry state he had left her in and realized it was probably too late for making a good impression this morning...

Resigning to this thought, the French Canadian just flopped back onto the pillows, making herself comfortable again. The door finally clicked open and Maryse could hear the rustling of what sounded like several bags. Turning back over, she saw Phil—looking frazzled and flustered—with a tray full of coffees in his hands and three paper bags on his arms.

"Oh, hey!" Phil said excitedly. "Um, I wanted to get you some breakfast. Are you hungry?"

She nodded timidly, giggling slightly as the bearded star struggled to close the door behind him.

"Well, I didn't really know how you liked your coffee…" He began, setting the large tray on the bedside table. "So I got one of each. You like one of these, right?"

At this, Maryse couldn't hold in her laughter anymore. She threw her head back and fell into a fit of giggles. Punk's face read of pure confusion, obviously worried that he had picked the wrong breakfast.

"Should I take that as a no?" He questioned hesitantly.

"No no," she choked out. "I love coffee. I just like it at its easiest—black. Sorry you had to get all of the other kinds just to hear that my order is so simple."

Now it was Phil's turn to laugh. "Well, I guess I will just have to drink the rest," he joked, opening the three bags of baked goodies. "And if you think that's funny, wait until you see all the different types of bagels I bought."

With that, Maryse realized that there was no need to worry about awkward tension from the night before. Phil made her feel completely at ease and all thoughts about last night, her appearance or any other concern, were totally washed away.

Time simply flew by as the pair sat on the bed talking, eating and laughing the morning away. Not once during their blissful morning did the man even try to bring up last night's events, or any other part of her dark past. It was a small gesture that made all the difference to Maryse. Never in her life had conversation and company come so easy for the French Canadian beauty, nor had laughs been so frequent. Every time she heard the tattooed man's voice, a wave of warmth and comfort washed over her entire body. For the first time in a long time, she was at peace.

As they hit a small lull in the conversation, Maryse took the opportunity to think about the next step—facing Mike at the show that evening. The thought of seeing him again almost made her sick to her stomach. She wasn't sure if it was too early to ask for a favor from her newest friend, but she would have to ask anyway.

"Punk?" She began hesitantly. "Can I ask you something? A favor maybe?"

Phil looked up from him second coffee and his demeanor changed slightly when he saw the worry written on her face.

"Of course, Princess," he replied. "Anything you want."

"Well, I am a little worried about going to work tonight…" She had absolutely no idea how she would explain her fear to Phil.

As if the man could read his mind, he inquired, "It's about Miz, huh?"

"Well, yes actually," Maryse murmured. "I just… I just don't want to face him today. At least not alone." She wrapped her arms around her shoulders, suddenly feeling a chill roll down her spine. Without any hesitation, Punk stripped off his jacket and threw it over her shoulders before brushing her soft blonde hair away from her flawless face.

"I am here for you, Princess. Tonight, we'll ride together and you can change and stuff in my locker room. Sound like a deal?"

With that, the smile was right back onto the woman's face. She leaned into the feel of Phil's touch before replying.

"Oui Punk, that sounds like a deal."

**OK, so this one (hopefully) was a little bit lighter than the last few. I will try to update again ASAP and, as always, comment pretty please! Thanks friends.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Again, I am SO sorry it has been so long! I finally have a little break so maybe a can write a few things… Thank you sooooo much to miss_sophie_rhodes.x, rebelwilla, rkofan2012, Glamagirl and zackryderlover for the reviews! The more reviews I can get, the better I feel about continuing on with my writings **

**NOTE: Obviously, a lot has happened with Punk (i.e. Cut hair, Nexus) and Maryse (i.e. Ted) on RAW since I started writing, but I'm pretty much going to act as if none of that has happened… Haha. I hope that's ok!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the WWE or the people in it.**

**Chapter 8**

Her knees were bouncing franticly as she sat in the passenger seat. The blonde beauty filled every spare moment brushing through her straight locks, pulling down her tight black bandage dress, or tapping her fingers nervously over the dress' short hem that hit high on her perfect thighs. Maryse's shoulders hadn't stopped quivering since they had left the hotel, even with Phil's jacket draped over them and the heat on high. Punk knew better than to know that it was just from the chilly Philadelphia air.

The bearded superstar could almost feel the fear burning from her body and he could _definitely _see it on her face. Inside, he was feeling just as conflicted. His feelings for this girl had grown tenfold from their "breakfast date" this morning, and now he just had no idea what was going on. To say she was FAR from his type might be the understatement of the century. That was the least of the concerns right now, though. His main concern right now was keeping her safe from Mike, though he didn't really know what about him he was protecting her from… The drugs, obviously, but was there something else terrible happening because of him?

"Say something," Maryse murmured nervously. The phrase was so quiet that it almost didn't shake Phil's out of the noise of his loud thoughts.

"Um, what?" He questioned hesitantly. More questions rushed to the forefront as he began to think he'd done something to upset the already disturbed woman.

"Please, Punk," she said, this time turning to connect her pleading eyes with his. "I don't care what it is, just say anything."

"I tried some sketchy Chinese food one time with my friend Colt Cabana and it gave me the worst diarrhea of my life."

_Wow. _Punk quickly took his hands off the wheel to smack himself in the forehead and hide his face in shame. _REALLY DUDE!_ He thought, practically shouting inside. _She asks you to say something, and you think talking about bowel movements is the way to go?_

Luckily (or perhaps unluckily) for him, he heard the now-familiar cackle explode from the French Barbie next to him. He looked to the right to see her doubled-over in almost painful laughter. _Well at least the fidgeting had stopped for a minute…_

As her giggles began to subside she curled back up and said, "Ok, what else?"

_Oh boy _he thought. _This could get interesting…_

This was about when it hit him how much he cared for the French diva. Sure, he's known for being sarcastic and cracking jokes, but they are almost never at his expense. With her, he is more than willing to be the butt of the jokes if it makes her smile.

"Umm… One time I tried ice skating? That was a joke within itself…"

Her loud laughter was back as soon as the word "skating" was out of his mouth. "Tell me you wore one of those little outfits, too," Maryse quipped between chuckles.

"Not a chance," he retorted. "That diaper I wear to the ring every week is as much of a costume as I'll ever try." This time, he was more than happy to join in the fits of laughter.

"Say something else Punky," Maryse said, flipping her hair back as she readjusted in her seat. This time, he decided to take the conversation in a bit of a different direction.

"You're gorgeous, strong, intelligent, funny and intriguing," He began, staring straight ahead at the road so as not to lose his nerve. Her perfect, almond eyes could stare holes through him sometimes.

They pulled into the parking lot of the arena and he pulled into the space farthest from the entrance. He cleared his throat and shifted a bit before continuing, "And I like spending time with you."

Using all the courage he could muster in his tattooed body, he slowly turned to face the object of all of his recent thoughts. He was definitely right; those dark eyes were threatening to burn holes right through his own. _Damn,_ he thought. _ I really need to work on the whole "Not talking before you think" thing…_

Right as he was beginning to regret letting the words spill out of his mouth, her pouted lips turned up into a small smile.

The blonde bombshell tossed her hair one more time before asking, "And?"

Phil chuckled softly as he looked down again to collect his thoughts. He used one hand to steady himself as he took the other towards her face.

Leaning forward, the straight-edge superstar pushed some of the platinum hair out of her face and whispered softly, "I want to help you, Princess. I want to take away the sadness that you're feeling by taking away your need for the drugs you depend on. I want to comfort you as you struggle and I want to worship you when you succeed. I want to understand your past so I can prevent that pain in the future."

His breath began to hitch and his heart was practically beating out of his chest as he saw the tears welling in her eyes. It was as if the floodgates had opened as he spilled his true feelings to this vulnerable girl.

"I want to be here for you every time you feel less than perfect," Phil continued. "Because, dammit, I think I'm beginning to fall for you, Princess."

Punk let out a big breath as he finished his unplanned but heartfelt speech. He was prepared himself to feel the pain of a smack in the face, but was instead met with the feeling of the world's most perfect lips crashed against his. His eyelids flew open in shock as she grabbed the back of his head to better control the kiss.

It was the single most wonderful confrontation Phil had ever experienced in his life. As soon as it had begun, though, it was over. Maryse leaned back into her seat and wiped the corners of her lips before letting out the soft giggle that Punk had begun to live for. She then reached to wipe the corners of his lips as she replied, "Well, Punky, you're in luck because I think I am falling for you too."

With their feelings hashed out and both on emotional highs, both Phil and Maryse felt completely ready to tackle any task thrown their way that evening. Even a task as unpleasant as dealing with Mike.

**Review, pretty please! Seriously, those reviews are what keep me confident enough to keep writing. If I'm feeling good about this chapter, I will update again before my break is over. Thanks in advance, friends. **


	9. Chapter 9

**Hi friends! I know it's been a superlongwhile but my life has been so hectic. Thanks for sticking with this and THANK YOU to everyone who has reviewed so far. The more reviews I get, the easier it is to keep this story going…**

**Again, a ton has happened on TV with Maryse and Punk lately, but I'm still pretending that he has hair and she isn't the host of NXT…**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the WWE or the people in it.**

**Chapter 9**

Euphoric. That was the only way to describe the way Phil felt with Maryse's hand in his. They stayed blissfully connected from when they left the car until they got to the back door of the arena. Punk felt an almost-unbearable tug in his heart as their hands split and their plan took action.

As they had discussed earlier, Maryse and the bearded superstar would act like they just happened to arrive at the arena simultaneously so as to not cause a scene. He would chat innocently with the blonde beauty all the way to her locker room, and then keep his phone with him throughout the rest of the evening in case she needed him for anything. The second Phil flung the back doors open, Maryse initiated the phony conversation.

"Yes, I've always liked coming to Kansas City," she said casually. Phil had to bite his lip ring to control the giggles he felt coming because of this silly chat. Her mischievous eyes caught his and she covered her mouth to stifle her own laugh.

_Ugh._ He thought. _I really am terrible at this whole "small talk" thing. I'm not a very good liar either, so this should be a real shitshow…_

"Oh, me too," Punk replied, over-emphasizing his words and using a slightly louder voice than normal. "It is a beautiful city and I love being here."

This time, the French Canadian couldn't control herself, and she let out a giant cackle in the middle of the hallway. The noise caught the attention of several people who began eyeing the pair curiously. Not wanting their interaction to look too suspicious, Punk joined in with an overly-enthusiastic laugh of his own.

"Oh Maryse," he began nervously. "You just tell the funniest jokes…"

All this sentence accomplished, though, was making Maryse laugh even harder. Luckily for both of them, they had arrived outside the Divas' changing area. He turned to her, trying to make it look casual and waved a small goodbye. Her cute giggles stopped and her face slowly changed from happiness to fear. He lingered just long enough to make sure she caught him wink, letting the gorgeous diva know that he would be there for her.

"Bye punkie," She said, trying to regain her composure. "I'm sure I'll see you around."

With that, Maryse disappeared behind the locker room door in a flash of platinum hair and Punk retreated down the hallway to prepare for the rest of the evening.

Phil opened the door to the changing room he shared with the other superstars and was greeted by curious stares and awkward, sudden silence. They had obviously _just_ been talking about him. He tried to ignore the eyes on him and made his way back to the corner of the room, dropping his bag next to the farthest locker away from the huddled bunch of males. As expected, the raven-haired superstar didn't have to wait long for the other guys to start hurling questions his way.

"Hey, where you been this morning?" Kofi Kingston asked him. "We normally work out before shows together, but I couldn't get a hold of you man."

"Yeah, that makes two of us," Rey Mysterio started. "I tried calling you to talk about our match but you went MIA on me."

Punk kept his back to the crew, avoiding all eye contact with the guys that know him best. If they saw his face, they would see right through all of the bullshit he was about to sell…. He felt terrible that he hadn't contacted his closest friends this morning and he felt even worse that he had to lie to them.

"I'm so sorry I didn't call you guys. I just wanted to work out by myself this morning," he said, busying himself with the stuff in his bag and trying to remain calm.

Christian's voice popped up over the quiet murmurs as he secured his wrist tape on the other side of the locker room.

"Come to think of it," the veteran began. "I didn't see you wandering the hallways of the arena when I got here. You're _always_ the first to arrive."

The heads of the curious crowd snapped from Christian back to Punk as if they were watching an intense tennis match. Phil's mind was working in overdrive and he knew this wasn't looking good…

"Well, I—"

"That's because he rode with Maryse to the arena."

_SHIT._ Punk turned slowly to see the cocky Cody Rhodes staring right at him as he leaned against one of the lockers. Rhodes waited for all of the eyes in the room to focus on him before he questioned Phil.

"I mean, that was who you walked in with, right?"

_Well, so much for the plan…_ Phil thought. _Time for Plan B: Just make stuff up and remember to tell Maryse later so that we can keep our story straight._

"Yeah, her car broke down so I offered her a lift," The tattooed superstar stated coolly. "That's also why I was a bit later than usual, Christian. But thanks for keeping tabs on me buddy. It's good to know that you've memorized my life patterns."

This was enough to raise a chuckle out of a few of the superstars and lighten the mood a bit in the locker room. Unfortunately, the light-heartedness was short lived as the brash 2nd-generation wrestler wasn't done interrogating Punk yet.

"And so that's why you had to hold her hand into the building?" Rhodes asked, knowing the reaction it would get from the Peanut Gallery.

Heads snapped right back to Punk, and Punk had about three seconds to think of a solid reply on the spot.

"One of her heels was like, broken or something," he muttered. He knew his face was red from embarrassment and nervousness. "I was just helping her walk…"

As if on cue, Christian innocently piped in.

"I will never understand how chicks can wear those things," the Canadian said. "They're sexy as hell, but they look like they would annihilate your feet."

With that, the room filled with chatter from the boys weighing the pros and cons of female footwear and Phil was able to breathe a sigh of relief. He owed Christian a steak dinner for the diversion he just created…

He finished changing quickly in the corner and began feeling pretty good about his cover-up as he replayed the conversation in his head. Phil felt good, that is, until his phone began to vibrate.

Looking down, he saw her name flash onto the screen and he quickly opened the text Maryse had sent him. His heart dropped to the ground when just one word came up: Help.

Phil immediately surveyed the area, mind churning and came upon another disturbing realization. The Miz was nowhere to be found.

That was all the proof Punk needed. The bearded superstar grabbed his phone and tore out of the lockerroom as fast as possible, hoping that he would be able to find the source of all of his happiness before it was too late.

**Ok, I promise to update again soon, but please REVIEW to let me know if what you like and don't like so far.**

**Also, someone asked if I would do story requests. I've never really thought about it, but I would be willing to give it a shot! If you have one, leave it in the comments, and I will message you to talk about it **


	10. Chapter 10

**SORRY that it took so long for an update. I'm done with university now, so I should have more time to write! That is… if I get reviews ;) **

**Like I've said before the last few chapters, lots has changed with these two since I started writing this story, but I'm going to pretend they are still the way they were when this story began...**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the WWE or the people in it.**

**Chapter 10**

Maryse quickly shut the door and leaned against the frame as she tried to settle the butterflies in her stomach. As her giggles began to subside from the ridiculous conversation she just faked with Phil, the platinum blonde realized that the Diva's locker room had come to a girl was quiet and every pair of eyes was fixed on her. She froze for a split second before she attempted to regain her composure.

"Hey sexies," She began, trying to sound as confident and in-control as she normally was. She had not wanted to cause a scene and she certainly had no intention of trying to explain to the girls what just happened. "So what's new tonight? What's going on girls?"

Melina was the first to respond, practically leaping out of her chair by the make-up stand.

"Oh my gracious, 'Ryse! You sure are chipper this afternoon," The fiery Latina exclaimed. "Is it because of anything specific? Or anyone? Anything interesting you would like to share with the group?"

"Nope," Maryse replied. "Nothing special today. I'm just feeling…" She took a moment to try and best explain her feelings in English. "I'm feeling happy." Thinking about it, there really wasn't an easier way to describe it without giving too much away. She was euphoric. Even without the help of the drugs she usually depended on, it was the happiest the French-Canadian had felt in years. The best she had felt since she began dating Mike…

As if on cue, a loud knock interrupted the giddy chatter that had overtaken the Diva's dressing room. Maryse just felt like she knew who was going to be on the other side of the door, so she chose to do what seemed like it would make the smallest scene. The platinum blonde adjusted her dress, re-flipped her hair, then slowly made her way to the door. As she hesitantly opened it, her eyes met an obviously-unhappy Mike's. Without a word, Miz grabbed her forearm, whipped her through the doorframe and slammed the door behind them in one fluid motion.

"What are you doing, Mike?" Maryse asked quietly, avoiding eye contact and keeping her voice down. "Where are you—"

"Shut that damn mouth and follow me," Mike spat. "We need to talk. Oh, and don't bother calling for help or struggling. It will only make it worse."

Dragging her down the hallway, Mike stopped in front of an empty locker room and flung the younger beauty down onto the hard floor inside. Her head bounced hard against the surface and she immediately scurried toward the nearest corner. Maryse had been in this position with Mike before and she knew that, with him, the best offense was a good defense. If she could just get in a corner and curl up, maybe she could shield herself from too much pain until his anger subsided.

"Is it true?" He questioned angrily. The Miz paced the floor, fuming. "Don't play games with me, Maryse and just answer the damn question. Is it true?"

She didn't want him to think she was being a smart-ass, but the platinum blonde honestly had no idea what he was asking. With Mike, he could be asking about any number of random things. She took a shaky breath before trying to calmly respond.

"Is what true, Mike?"

Her question was met with a backhand to the face. "I don't like your tone," Mike said coldly. "You know damn well what I want to know. Are you fucking that loser?"

_Damn_, Maryse thought. _How the hell had he found out about Phil?_

"No Mike, not at all!" She exclaimed. Technically, she wasn't lying. She and Phil had never had sex. Hell, they had just expressed their feelings earlier that day. By this point, though, Maryse knew she had to say whatever she thought Mike wanted to hear just to get out of this unscathed. "I swear, there is nothing there."

"That's not what I heard," Mike continued. "I heard he brought you to the arena today. You never ride with others. The only person you have ever ridden with was me because you don't have friends, Maryse. Nobody around here likes you. Nobody here wants to associate with a drug-addicted whore."

As Mike began his furious rant, the diva tried her hardest to block it out, just as she had times before. Normally, his tirade about her bad habits tore her apart. She usually felt just as alone and unwanted as he made her out to be. But now that she had Phil, Maryse didn't feel alone or unwanted. She now knew she had the opportunity to turn things around. She just had to get out of this situation alive.

The Miz continued his hate-filled speech as he paced around the room, occasionally stopping to violently grab at her wrists or neck to make sure she was listening. This was a different Mike than even she was used to, though. Maybe it was because she was clean and sober for this argument, but his anger didn't seem to be simmering and his violent tone didn't sound like it was subsiding. He was in a trance-like state, consumed by his jealousy and rage.

She had to get out, and she had to get out now. Searching the small, cold room for something that could help, Maryse remembered that she had put her phone in her bra while she was still in the Divas' locker room. Waiting for the Miz to turn his back to her, the French-Canadian woman quickly whipped the cell phone out and typed a one word text to the contact she had last texted—Phil.

Help

Shoving the phone back into her bra, Maryse went back to her curled-up position on the cold floor. Her shift in position seemed to spark Mike's attention, as he darted to her side, grabbing a fistful of her hair and pulling her head back.

"Listen, bitch," Mike began. "What I'm really trying to say is that you owe me. For all of the shit I bought you, you owe me. And I want my payment…. right now…"

The Miz held the diva firmly in position with his right hand as he let the left begin exploring her body. She was still wearing her tiny dress, so there wasn't much fabric to protect her. As his hand roughly rubbed up to her chest, the phone she was keeping between her breasts began to vibrate. Mike's whole body froze as his eyes locked with her terrified gaze. He released her hair and quickly moved that hand to her neck, gripping tightly. Slowly, Mike grabbed the phone out of her dress and broke eye contact only to read the name of the incoming caller. He immediately dropped the phone and shoved her against the wall behind her, tightening the grip around her neck.

Using a tone that could only be described as terrifying, the Miz quietly interrogated his victim. "He's looking for you, isn't he?"

Without waiting for a response, Miz slapped her hard across the face, this time making forceful contact with Maryse's nose. The blood began to drip almost immediately as the older superstar ran to the doorway.

"This isn't over between us, Maryse," He muttered on his way out. "I still own you and I'm not through with you yet." With that, Mike darted out of the room, leaving a bleeding Maryse alone in the corner.

With trembling hands, the blonde beauty tried to reach for the phone Mike had tossed on the floor. Fortunately for her, she wouldn't need to use it as a familiar voice came flooding down the hallway, calling her name. It was the same voice that had brought her comfort so many times before…

The tears had begun to fall by this point and she couldn't seem to form a response. She shifted a bit in the corner, trying to find the strength to call back. Almost as if he heard her silent struggle, Maryse's knight in shining armour burst through the doorway. His eyes frantically searched the room as his voice called out for her again. Punk was about to turn and leave, thinking the room empty, when his eyes fell on the trembling figure in the far corner.

"Oh God, Maryse," He cried, rushing to her side. He surveyed the younger woman, becoming even more concerned when he saw the trail of blood down her face. "What the fuck happened?"

She still couldn't get her voice to formulate any words, so instead, she buried herself in his chest and began sobbing uncontrollably. Phil had absolutely no idea what to do at that moment. He had never felt so helpless in his entire life and he couldn't stand it. He would've given anything in this world just to take away the woman's physical and emotional pain. Using one hand to hold her and one to rub soft circles on her shaking back, the bearded man was determined to make sure he never had to see her like this again.

"I should've been with you," Phil muttered, the guilt present in his voice. "I am so sorry, Maryse. I never should have left you alone." That morning in the hotel, had told her he would protect her from Mike. Apparently, after the events in his car that afternoon, he had completely forgotten about the Miz and the danger he put the blonde beauty in.

Using Maryse's phone that was still laying on the floor, Punk called one of the WWE trainers and told him that he had an emergency in the empty locker room. There would be plenty of time for Phil to try to apologize to the woman he loved, but for now he had to get her the help she needed. For now, he had to keep his promise and keep her safe.

**Review, please! Those are what keep me writing. I know this chapter was a little dark, but I hope you enjoyed it. I'll update soon As always, thanks for reading!**


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